


Fullmetal Alchemist Drabbles

by midnightdiddle (gooseberry)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Brothers, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Friendship/Love, Gen, doting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-23
Updated: 2006-09-20
Packaged: 2019-02-01 07:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12700116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gooseberry/pseuds/midnightdiddle
Summary: Drabbles about platonic relationships; Riza and Roy, Ed and Al, and Hughes and Elicia.





	1. Fingertips

Riza doesn't own a mirror. She doesn't see the point of one, not really. They're a risk hazard. Glass shatters, at point blank, or any point, and the glass shards would be a hazard, too.

She is, she likes to say, realistic.

So when she runs into Mustang, and he's crouched over a mirror, fingers tracing red on the pieces, she crouches next to him, and she kicks away the glass.

She pulls up his hands, one by one, and kisses his fingers, one by one, and smiles against them, one by one.

Riza likes to be of use.

Maybe it's love?


	2. Brotherly Love

> **brotherly love** (n) a kindly and lenient attitude toward people [syn: charity]

Al thinks this is far from right. Ed is anything but kind, lenient, or giving.

Instead, Ed is self-absorbed and strict and a little crazy, to boot. Ed laughs when other people fall down, sometimes, and he cries when he doesn't get his way.

But Ed's self-sacrificing, too. Ed doesn't hesitate, not ever, if it comes down to Al. He cut off his arm, and Al's sure that, if it'd help, Ed would cut out his heart, too.

So maybe it's Ed's own special brand of brotherly love.


	3. For His Cookie Chip

At first, he'd tried to show Roy the pictures. At the flick of fingers and the puff of smoke he'd considered that a lost cause, and moved on to show someone else. Hawkeye had blinked, Havoc had snuck away, and Armstrong had...glittered. With pink sparkles. Almost as glittering and pink as his own little princess-- But that was deviating from the point! The point was, that no one would sit still long enough for Hughes to explain, in great detail, the precious anecdotes of his precious angel. It was while he'd been waving a handful of photos at Fury (who was walking as quickly as he could, arms full of folders, eyes carefully averted) that Hughes saw him. The newest victim. The person (or not) that would sit and listen, and darn well appreciate it.

Black Hayate whined as Hughes whipped out the twenty-seventh photo, pointing out the perfect little fingers of his cupcake, the perfect hair of his chestnut, the perfect eyes of his cookiechip. Hughes paused, eyeing the dog, and eyed the hallway. Hawkeye wasn't within eyesight, and afterall, every apple-blossom needed a puppy-wuppy.


End file.
